


Dark That Follows

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-06
Updated: 2012-03-06
Packaged: 2017-11-10 10:17:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/465181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John had been packing boxes, gathering his things, ignoring Sherlock for the most part. When Sherlock asked what he was doing, John simply replied “I’m moving in with Mary.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dark That Follows

Sherlock had never been a jealous man. Only when he discovered it was John’s blog, not his, people were reading did he get his first taste of the feeling. He quickly realized the majority of the population was too ignorant and uneducated to properly understand his, so the emotion quickly passed. But if he hadn’t felt it then, he would never have known what he was feeling now. 

At first Sherlock thought nothing of John’s newest girlfriend: just another name to a rapidly growing list, what with John’s inability to keep them for long. But when a week, then two and three passed by, John growing more and more comfortable around her, Sherlock started to feel a tinge of the emotion return. Of course it wasn’t enough for him to recognize it, and as life between Sherlock and John continued normally, he had no reason to anticipate its return.

Soon, though, more and more of John’s evenings were spent with this Mary, as Sherlock figured out her name to be. Again, Sherlock wasn’t bothered in the least, partly because half the time he didn’t even realize John was gone. But one day, as he called out to John in the excitement of a new case and did not hear a response, a sudden and inexplicable dread filled him. 

It wasn’t hard to figure out that John was on yet another date, and that that wasn’t the source of Sherlock’s unsettling feeling. With every other girlfriend John had, enough persisting (or pestering, as John called it), would find John leaving his date to run across London with Sherlock. This time, all of Sherlock’s usual tactics failed, and he was baffled to find himself at a crime scene alone. Of course there was no outward appearance of this, and “girlfriend” was the excuse Sherlock waved at all the inquiring minds; but never had the weight of that word sunk into Sherlock’s understanding until now. 

When he returned that night to find John at home, Sherlock was almost hesitant to bring up the topic of his absence from the scene. Almost. But as the discussion went on, voices raised and logic (excepting on Sherlock’s side, of course) went out the window, leaving John to spend the night at Mary’s and Sherlock bewildered (yet again) on the couch, completely and utterly alone. 

For the next couple of days, Sherlock remained more aloof that usual, but only slightly. Not even John noticed, what with his lasting distraction. How anyone so tedious and dull could be so much more interesting to John was a question that haunted Sherlock for the rest of the week. 

One day, Sherlock came back from a case (without John, an unfortunately growing occurrence). This day could easily have been named as the start of all the chaos to come. 

John had been packing boxes, gathering his things, ignoring Sherlock for the most part. When Sherlock asked what he was doing, John simply replied “I’m moving in with Mary.”

Never had Sherlock been so overwhelmed by thoughts and emotions, and never had the two of them had such a heated argument. Sherlock continually pointed out how much more interesting he was than Mary, and John usually just shouted nonsense back. If anyone else had been in John’s place, they would have run for the lives from the first word with how angry Sherlock seemed to be. At the end of it, John left Baker Street in a very foul mood and no intention of returning.

Sherlock’s thoughts churned and raged, emotions he held buried biting afresh at his skin as he worked to figure out what was going on with his feelings and thoughts. In a desperate bid to quiet his raging mind, he went into his old stash of cocaine, the one John and Mycroft had not managed to find. The thought that the army doctor would disapprove, one of the forces that kept him from doing this for so long, came into his head, but with it came the realization that John cared more for Mary than he did for him. 

He immediately injected the drugs.

Nothing much of value passed during his mind during the haze. But when the drug wore off, Sherlock found one the phrases John threw at him during the fight floating around his mind. “Mary loves me, Sherlock, more than she loves her work.”

It was a simple, ill-developed phrase intended to specifically hurt Sherlock. Instead, it gave him vicious idea. Fueled by his ego, his childlike temper, and his inability to recognize the repercussions of this action, Sherlock put into motion his plan.

Throughout this time, Sherlock made no move to contact John, and John, though regretting the fight, felt it appropriate Sherlock talk to him first. It was in this way that no communication passed between them while Sherlock worked to make his point.

The plan didn’t go nearly as quickly as Sherlock expected. Mary was an unquestionably loyal woman, and Sherlock found himself almost ashamed of what he was to do. But he had a point to prove, and he would.  
Many believed Sherlock did not know what love was; it was true. But he was so apt at the replication of human emotions, that, though it took a while, he was still able to drag Mary into believing she was special to him; that Sherlock was, if only temporarily, better than John.

By this time, John and Mary’s relationship had grown serious in nature. Though they had not been married, the idea of it was not far from their thoughts. So it was especially crushing for John to come home one day to find Mary, his one true love, kissing Sherlock in their living room. When he entered, Mary became flustered, apologetic, everything you would expect. Sherlock just stood there, smiling, rattling on about how she was no different from anyone else, that John should return to Baker Street and continue the cases, how Mary “was just the disease that stained his lips tonight.” 

It was with great anger and resentment that John punched Sherlock in the face before walking out the door.

While Sherlock still felt emotions, contradicting his claimed sociopathic nature, he did not entirely understand them. And so he could not reasonably understand why John was so upset by his revealing of Mary’s fall from John.  
At first, Sherlock repeatedly called and texted John, demanding he get over his silly emotions and return. Soon, the messages turned to pleading, Sherlock desperately wanting one of the only people who put up with him back in his life. But when even Mycroft’s attempt to placate John failed (with yet another punch to the face on John’s part), Sherlock’s pleading turned to desperate messages sent only when he was high; which, at this point in his life, was all the time. Sherlock fell back into his cocaine addiction, confused and lost by the devastating turn of events. Mycroft tried to curtail Sherlock’s habit, even cutting off his access to bank accounts, but Sherlock always found a way to the drugs. Eventually, Mycroft just sat back and watched in case it went too far, knowing rehab was the last and final option, and that Sherlock would never go willingly, drugged or not. 

Soon, the calls and messages Sherlock sent started to fade, trickling out as he drowned his feelings (which he never quite understood) in the dangerous chemical. The respite from Sherlock gave John some time for his feelings to calm down, and while he was nowhere near forgiving Sherlock, he was willing to try.

The day John Watson sent a message to Sherlock was the day the world’s only consulting detective managed to overdose. John’s message came but minutes too late. Not even Mycroft and his people were able to save him, and the world lost one of its greatest minds.

The funeral was small, and while many people passed through, none really stayed except for the close circle of friends Sherlock had managed to make while living at Baker Street.

John was there, of course. Even in death, there was still a lingering anger towards the man. But that did not stop him from remembering how great he could be, and how great a friend he was. When he got home, it was him that cried the most over Sherlock’s death. For all the tears the friends had shed, John’s was the most representative of how he felt.

Initially, John refused to have any contact with Mary, shifting the blame from himself to her. But he soon realized how pointless it was, and slowly let her back into his life. While they never dated again, she was still the one whose shoulder was always there when he needed it. 

In the end, John was able to fall back into a semblance of life. Towards the end of it, he might even have been living. Eventually, though, natural causes killed him in his old age, and he left no one of importance in his life behind in his death.

It would be nice to believe that Sherlock greeted John in heaven, and that both John and Sherlock were able to forgive each other. They were happy, and even in heaven, enjoyed looking down upon the world and solving cases together. 

But the world is never full of happy endings. Both men died with the supposed hate of the other, without knowing none of it really mattered. Each died thinking they were just the disease in each other’s lives.

Sherlock Holmes and John Watson both died entirely, utterly, and heartbreakingly alone. All because they couldn’t say “I forgive you.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work up here, and I have a strange writing style. The story was based on the song "Dark That Follows" by Evans Blue, the quotes being lyrics.


End file.
